


What are you afraid of?

by Lindzzz



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Jack is a creepy creepy mofo, M/M, Pitch is still horrible he's just all snowy about it now, Power switch AU, Pre-Slash, Slow Build, and is bffsies with sandy, oh fuck this turned into a legit fic goddamnit, really whole backstory switch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-02-17
Packaged: 2017-11-26 11:10:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/649894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lindzzz/pseuds/Lindzzz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I meant to write a short drabble and then I wrote a follow up and now this is turning into a legit thing.</p><p>An Alternate Universe where Jack is the ancient Nightmare King and Pitch is the young and very bitter Winter Spirit.  Pretty much switches their backstories while keeping the personalities as similar to canon as I could.  Mainly a whole lot of character study of Jack Black with eventual slow build Pitch/Jack.  </p><p>Each chapter is a short single scene that all come together to make something slightly coherent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Playing with a background switch inspired by some awesome Pitch Frost and Jack Black fanart I saw. Instead of just a power switch I did a complete turn around with Jack being the old nightmare king and Pitch being the young upstart. Wanted to keep their personalities as intact as I could though so Jack is actually still a Guardian. He works keeping the balance going and protects and intimidates through fear. But he's also just generally creepy and makes all the Guardians hella uncomfortable.
> 
> Pitch is still terrible. Pitch is always terrible.

Pitch hits the ground hard enough to knock the air from his lungs. He wheezes and coughs as he scrambles to get back up. Stopping to catch his breath is a luxury he can't afford right now. He doesn't know where the shadow came from or where it's gone but he can FEEL it coming at him again.

-This is wrong! - He thinks, calling the wind to help him move faster. Jack wasn't supposed to get involved! His plan had been going perfectly before this! The Nightmare King was hardly ever heard from or even seen, how was Pitch supposed to know he would actually get the boy's attention? 

It had been HIS turn! This world would be covered in ice and cold and the Guardians would freeze with everyone else for ignoring him! He's not going to let them, or Jack, stop him. He just has to run, has to get away and find somewhere to regroup and gather his strength again and-

There's a snort and Pitch stops short and looks up, eyes going wide when he see's the Nightmares pooling out from behind trees and under stones to circle him. They slowly close in and he tenses, trying to fight down the mad panic rising in his chest. ”No! No no no!”

There’s a huff behind him and he yells when he feels a nightmares hot breath on his neck. He spins around and is instantly knocked onto his back again.

He manages a gasp before a sharp, wicked black sickle is held against his throat and he looks up into two gleaming yellow eyes and a grin that stretches over Jack’s whole face.

“Where do you think you’re going, Frost?” Jack’s voice is light and playful, almost friendly around rows of sharp teeth. Pitch glares up at him, fighting down the desperate fluttering in his chest and ignoring the whispers in the back of his mind promising heat and fire and pain.

“Get out of my head! You were supposed to stay out of this Black!”

Jack tilts his head to the side, it’s a sharp, jerky movement that is far more unnerving than it should be. The sickle at Pitch's throat lifts, making him tilt his head back to keep it from slicing into the underside of his chin. He sucks in air, trying not to breathe too hard and watches Jack, who regards him with a calculating stare. ”You know," Jack says eventually, ”I wanted to like you. Honestly! I did! I get where you're coming from. I know what it's like, feeling someone walk through you, not being believed in. I manage to make do with the small stuff these days but I still know how it can drive someone crazy. So I get it. I figured I would let the other guys handle this and it would just blow over. You'd maybe learn a lesson and I would ask you to team up with me, things would have been great!"

The smile disappears and is replaced with a snarl of disgust and silver razors. Jack’s eyes widen and glow from the shadows of his hood. ”But you took down Sandy. I like Sandy. He was my brother, you know what I mean?" The blade turns just lightly and Pitch fights down a noise when it cuts just slightly into his skin. "I won’t ask how you did it. I don't really care. There's only one question I have for you.”

Jack leans in close, the grin returning even wider than it was before. His eyes burn like points of brimstone from endless black pits in his face and his breath wafts across Pitch’s face, hot and sharp with the smell of iron and blood and fire.

“Tell me, Frost, what are you afraid of?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two ancient spirits stand side by side, watching the world go by, as they've done for eons.
> 
> The Dream Weaver, and the Nightmare King.
> 
> Jack and Sanderson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was supposed to be a single one-shot drabble what am I doing oh my god.
> 
> Also let me throw my Jack Black and Sanderson friendship feel all over the place because they are basically palemates in this AU.

The snow falls quiet and soft over the North Pole. There’s a special quality to the calm in the air, the feel of a breath being let out in a relieved sigh. There was balance again, and the snow had lost it’s menace and had returned to a gentle whisper in the wind.

 

Two ancient spirits stand in one of North’s large windows, overlooking the peace, side by side as they always are. The slim and dark boy shrouded in shadow and menacing whispers, and the small, round man made of gold and sunshine.

The Dream Weaver and the Nightmare King. 

The boy has his usual hood down,a rare sight on its own, and his smile is smaller than usual, calm and content and entirely unmenacing. He leans against the wall, head resting on the window as he twirls his staff made of the blackest corners of the sky in one hand.

“You owe me Sandy. I actually had to tell kids to think of good dreams. It was traumatic and I still feel dirty.”

Sanderson just grins, eyes crinkling as a series of images flash in sand above his head in rapid succession. Jack’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Where did you learn that sass?” He sounds scandalized, though his smile gets bigger. ”You didn’t pick that up from me, that’s for sure.”

There’s another flurry of pictures, too fast to possibly follow, but Jack gasps in feigned shock. “Oh that is just RUDE. Just because I don’t have a mother doesn’t mean you can go about besmirching her hypothetically good name like that sir! After all I did for you!”

Sanderson smiles again and pats him on the leg. He pauses then, looking thoughtful and then looks up at Jack in question.

“What? Pitch? Ah, he’ll be fine. It’s not like he was ACTUALLY melting.” Jack’s grin grows a little bit at that, getting a slight edge to it. “He just won’t be a hassle for a while. I don’t think he’ll be able to even think for months at least. He was smart though, to offer so nicely to help get your blown up ass back together.” He blinks at the sudden flurry of sand pictures. “Oh, sorry, frozen-and-exploded-ass. My deepest apologies.” 

Sanderson raises his eyebrows.

“Yeah, really he got off lucky. I didn’t even touch his deep psychological psychosis, and those are always my favorites.” He glances down when Sanderson simply crinkles his brows in question again.

“I dunno….I mean, I guess he would have deserved it.” He looks back to the window, staff tapping nervously on the ground. “I had a look, they were just….a little too familiar for me I guess.”

There’s a long silence, where Jack looks out the window and Sanderson calmly watches him.

“I want to help him Sandy.” It comes out small and quiet, low enough to make sure only his friend would hear it. “I mean…he’s done some pretty nasty stuff yeah. But…I’m kind of the last person to hold that against anyone.”

Sanderson smiles sadly and gives an encouraging nod.

“He’s dumb. Really dumb. I mean we all can see that. And just hugely dramatic. But I get why he did what he did. It’s enough to drive anyone crazy, not being believed in. He just…I don’t know. Like I said. His deeper fears were a bit too familiar.”

Sanderson raises his eyebrows and Jack snorts.

“Oh I don’t expect him to LIKE me. I don’t really know if I like him at all. But…I want to help him still. Like you helped me. Well, not exactly like you helped me, that’s your thing. But I don’t think your tricks would work on him quite the same.” He grins, slow and wide. “Don’t think scaring him straight will quite work. I may actually have to talk to him.”

Sanderson rolls his eyes and Jack’s grin grows wider, his eyes flashing briefly in the moonlight. “Well, I may scare him a little bit. He’s got legs like a giraffe and I have no idea how he manages to flail them in so many directions. I think the only reason I didn’t just bust out laughing was because I was too pissed to realize how funny it was at the time.”

They both laugh then, Jack’s a bright, harsh sound and Sandersons silent, though it makes his whole body shake. It takes them several minutes to calm down and lean back, still smiling widely.

“I’m glad you’re back, Sunshine. It was getting lonely on my own.” Sanderson looks up, then glances towards the room where the other Guardians are enjoying the copious amounts of eggnog in celebration. Jack follows his gaze and shrugs.

“I mean, I like them fine yeah. Except Bunny, Bunny can go choke on a carrot. But…I feel like they’re just extras. THIS is what it all comes down to. You and me. Two sides of the same coin and all those other cliches. I think we’re what really keeps this whole thing spinning right.”

Sanderson shrugs, Jack smiles, and they go back to silently watching the snow fall.   
Side by side, as they always are.


	3. Intermission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two stories that are very familiar, yet very different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I didn't mean to post this on here since it broke my "chronological order" plan. But I did want the switched origin stories written up and decided this would be a nice pause before the current-timeline drabbles started up again!

Ages ago, before there was a man in the moon and before fear wandered the land, a young lad receives the greatest honor he can dream of.

He would be part of The Guard. "The Guard" was the only title that was needed for the small army that stood strong and protected everything from fear and darkness. Stationed for life in a dark, lonely place far from light and joy, but honored because he would keep the world safe.

So the young man says goodbye to his family for the last time as he prepares to leave.

It is a bittersweet parting, though he looks splendid in his golden armor and blinding smile. He will never see his loved ones again but they will be safe, free from fear and horror and all that was wrong.

And now he could be part of what kept them that way. He would stand proud knowing that they would be alright because of him.

So he leaves, smiling despite the tears in his eyes and nothing to remind him of his old home but a simple golden bracelet from his little sister. They had had to pull her off of him and he told her to be good for mother, to be brave and always smile for him.

He feels the thin chain with his fingers as he marches into shadow and says goodbye to the light. He goes in with a heart full of pride and tinged with a sweet sadness.

The young man follows his orders, learns to ignore the whispers as he sleeps, and always finds something to smile about. Even in that dark place he tries to find joy in things like simple jokes or the occasional small game when he isn’t on duty.

But the dark has ways of wearing down the brightest spirit.

Sleep does not come easily there, especially for those who have never known fear. He feels dragged and thin within the first year, though he’s assured that he’ll grow used to it. He stands guard, always a certain distance from the heavy black doors that hold the fearlings at bay.

He closes his eyes and thinks of his sister then, blocking out the dark whispers since he knows that it only takes a second for them to grab onto your mind. It’s habit now, when he has to watch the doors, to focus on the thin chain around his wrist until it feels like it weighs a hundred pounds.

He had never been told not to focus on one thing for too long around the door.

And he was tired, so tired, that for one second, he heard a whisper.

“Jack...”

He gasps, eyes darting around, but no one else has moved. It wasn’t a soldier; it sounded like-

“Jack! Jack help!”

He closes his eyes, focuses on his breathing, it’s not her. It’s not Sophie. Sophie isn’t here, and he can’t let them get into his head.

“Jack please! I’m scared!”

The bracelet is burning into his wrist and he finds himself taking a step forward against his will. Everything is muffled except feel of the thin chain and the sound of his sister’s terrified cries.

“Jack! Jack it’s dark! Please! I can’t see anything!”

“No…no stop, you’re not…you’re not.”

He keeps walking forward, he can’t stop and he can barely feel the hands pulling on his arms and trying to drag him back. There's yelling in the distance or is it next to his ear? He pulls away, moving faster now, his heart thudding in his ears and breath rasping in his lungs and he can’t stop he can’t stop.

“Sophie, Sophie hold on!”

“Jack where are you? Jack it hurts! Make it stop!”

Hurts. Something hurts. He stumbles for a second when there’s a dull thud against his back followed quickly by two more. It’s not until he coughs and see’s red that he realizes he’s been hit by arrows.

He can’t stop even as he tries to scream tries to tell them to kill him he can’t stop even when his lungs are full and he’s choking and coughing his own blood he can’t stop.

“No, Sophie no, please…”

There’s the clanking of armor and yelling and the heavy thud of boots on stone and too late he wants to scream because his hand is already on the door. As soon as his fingers hit the smooth surface it’s like a blanket is yanked off him.

His back is nothing but pain and his lungs burn and he can feel them bubbling and he tries to scream through the blood as the doors slowly open to nothing but dark and millions of brimstone eyes.

“Jaaaccckkkkkkkkhhhhhkkk...” It isn’t his sister’s voice anymore. It’s a rasp, the drag of stone on stone and millions of hissing voices greeting him and welcoming him in.

He finally does scream as they all rush towards him at once, a last pathetic gurgle as they fill his mouth and his eyes and his nose until he’s suffocating in blackness.

When he wakes there is nothing but black. His little sisters voice is no longer in his head because there’s nothing for him to remember.

There’s nothing for him but the screams filling the dark and the sweet taste of terror when golden armor crumples under his hands and the knowledge that nothing pairs with such a banquet better than the tang of blood in the air.

And a small, golden bracelet hanging from a red-stained wrist.

 

———————————————————————————————— 

Thousands upon thousands of years later, but still long before now, a man is living his worst nightmare.

“It’s alright princess, it’s alright, just walk slowly towards me. You’ll be alright you hear me? Just come here, Daddy’s going to get you out of here.”

A small girl sniffles and whimpers in terror as she steps over the ice, crying out when it cracks further under her tiny feet.

“Daddy! I can’t!”

“Seraphina you can! Everything will be ok! I promise!”

He can’t let her see how his hands are shaking or how there are tears freezing in his eyes as he fights the need to run out to her. He can’t feel anything but terror and horror and his breath is harsh and far too loud in his lungs.

“Just walk slowly alright? I promise, I promise you’ll be alright love. Daddy’s got you!”

She cries as she steps again, and it’s too small a step and the ice is still cracking and he barely thinks when he leaps. Slamming into her hard enough to send her flying into the snow on the other side of the pond.

He can hear her scream when the ice breaks under him and he only hears her screaming as he’s pulled down. He wishes he could go and comfort her and make sure she reaches home safely, but there’s nothing but ice in his lungs and the dark is pulling him down.

“I’m dying…” It’s not as panicked as he thought it would be, that thought. His lungs ache and his arms and legs feel heavy against the cold and he can’t fight it anymore.

But at least his little girl is safe.


	4. Intermission 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She needs a warm embrace, a soft word and a comforting smile. She needs someone to put a gentle hand over her head and hold her while telling her everything will be alright. But Jack is none of these things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NGL guys I could just write Jack Black being himself forever. I don't think any of you have any idea how much I love playing with the idea of how much he'd change and how he'd stay the same and ugh I just love dynamic changes ok.
> 
> Going back to the next chapter of Evil Boyfriends after this, then will pick up the actual storyline here.

It’s the fear that draws Jack there. It’s desperate and wailing and overwrought and he can’t fight the curiosity for long. There’s a certain hue that fear gets when it’s touched with despair and loss that always calls for him. He stopped trying to wonder why long, long ago.

He finds the source easily; a small, pale girl sobbing by a frozen pond. She had been screaming before her voice gave out, and now she’s just a small, curled and broken thing, hiccuping and sobbing quietly to herself.

Jack walks up next to her, she can’t see him, but he watches her all the same. He stands silently next to her for a bit while he looks up. It’s the middle of winter and the sky is already starting to grow dark.

“You shouldn’t be out here, it’s getting late.”

She of course, doesn’t answer, but he sighs and crouches down beside her anyway. “What’s the matter little one? You shouldn’t feel this sort of fear for a long time.”

Her eyes are fixed on a certain point and he follows her gaze until he spies the hole in the ice, already starting to freeze over again. He frowns for a second until she finally speaks.

“Daddy…daddy please…please come up I won’t do anything bad again I promise! Just please come up...”

“Oh….” Jack hisses softly. He watches the broken ice and looks back at the girl with pity. His hand lifts for a second, stopping short of her shoulder before he slowly pulls it back to grip his staff again. “He’s not coming up little one…”

He looks back at the broken ice and they both sit for a few heartbeats, Jack silent while the girl softly cries.

“You’re going to have a lot of nightmares about this…sorry.” He glances away, hand shifting on the staff before he looks back at her, smiling small and tired and sad. “It will help though, they’ll help you learn to confront it. You’ll just need to decide you want them to stop, and then you fight them. And you’ll be stronger for it.”

The girl continues to sob quietly and Jack sighs, stands up and looks around.

“But for now you need to go home little one. It’s dangerous out here.”

She needs a warm embrace, a soft word and a comforting smile. She needs someone to put a gentle hand over her head and hold her while telling her everything will be alright. But Jack is none of these things. But he can send her to where that is.

He’s not actually sure where she lives or if she has a family, but he knows there’s a village nearby. Close enough to easily herd her in that direction.

All it takes is a wave of his hand for the shadows to shift around them, taking on hulking forms that dart about in the woods. She gasps and looks up and he pulls a thread, makes the shadows howl long and loud like a pack of wolves on the hunt.

The girl screams, whimpering through sobs as she leaps up and runs. She’s coughing through her tears and gasping, desperate and terrified and so, so alone as the shadows chase her.

“Go on home little one, before the real wolves show up. I’m sorry, but you’ll be seeing more of my shadows soon…”

He watches her retreating figure and then watches the Nightmare that pulls itself from the pond to follow her. The creature takes it’s time, it’s attached to her now and there’s no hurry to beat her home when she’ll always live with it. Jack watches, waits until they’re both gone and then shrugs and turns away.

There are places to be, and he’s done his part here.

It’s time to go.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack doesn't see what Pitch is so uptight about.

It’s been almost two years.

Two years since he tried to make his place in the world, since he forced his way into the spotlight and MADE everyone look at him. Two years since he was stopped by heat and pain and terror and laughter.

There are still times where he feels like he’ll never be cold again.

It doesn’t happen often anymore fortunately. He’s starting to think that he’s finally recovered.. But then he’ll hear a sound on the wind. Just a trace off a snicker on the air and he’ll feel red hot chains sinking into his skin while his head fills with bright, burning glee.

And once it starts it keeps building, thawing him from the inside out until he has to bury himself deep in an iceberg to feel solid again. 

He still doesn’t know how long Black had trapped him in his own mind. It had felt like decades, centuries, minutes, millenia. He can’t remember specific details now. There are only flashes of memory that blaze across his mind.

The glint of blades reflecting red fire.

The feel of magma rising up around him.

The slow, steady and excruciating drip...drip...drip of ice in the sun.

The way Jack’s teeth shone like razors as he smiled and asked how Pitch was feeling. 

At some point he had heard echo’s of a child screaming, and still doesn’t know why that was worse than the heat. 

And then it would stop, the red and burning white would disappear and leave him gasping into darkness. It was almost worse then, because Jack would begin to circle him, smile gone and eyes blazing from under his hood.

“What did you do to him?” he had asked, voice dead and heavy as stone.

“It doesn’t matter what you do.” Pitch had snarled between desperate heaves of cold, wonderfully cold, air. “Your good dreams are gone. You can do what you want with me! Burn me, kill me, but this world will know nothing but cold and ice and darkness because of me!”

The staff hooked under his chin, making him look up, “You leave the darkness to me Frosty. Don’t go trying to steal someone elses glory, it’s rude. Now what did you do to Sandy? Help me fix it and I may let you go.”

Pitch snarled at him and just like that the heat and screaming would return, worse now after the brief and blessed cold.

He thought it had been decades more until he finally caved, finally told Jack how he could put his precious little dreamweaver back together.

The words were barely out of his mouth when the air went cold again and he woke up gasping in the snow right where he had fallen...was it centuries? or minutes ago?

Jack had smiled brightly down on him and ruffled his hair before disappearing in a rush of shadow. Leaving Pitch lying there and shaking and gulping icy air, trying to remember where his limbs were attached or if they were attached at all.

Pitch had barely managed to grab onto the wind and cling to it as it swept him home to Antarctica. He stayed there since, putting himself back together in the black, bitterly cold deep water and in the howling wind and blinding ice.

Today it’s calm and still, though in this place even the glaring sun is cold and washed out. It’s rays don’t even register to Pitch as he curls deep within a crevice in the ice. Down here he can’t hear anything but the groans and cracks as the glacier settles and speaks to him.

It’s calm in a way that his head will never be, so he tries to soak it in. He’s not finished with the world yet, but he has all the time he needs. For now he’ll stay here with his solitude and the ice, let the cold sink in so deep that no heat could penetrate it.

It’s blissfully quiet and he could stay here for weeks, listening to the wind and creaking of ancient ice.

“Is this really what you do all day? I mean, is it hard work? Being this boring?”

Pitch chokes on the air. He jumps so violently that he slams himself into the wall of the crevice and presses himself against the ice, focusing on the cold and he needs the cold he needs it to fight the sudden stab of remembered heat at that voice like a knife through his ribs.

Black is in HIS place. Perched up on his crooked staff and watching Pitch with mild interest from under his hood, smiling amiably while Pitch tries to push himself into the ice wall at his back.

“Get away from me!”

Jacks smile only brightens at that, widening to show his thankfully normal looking teeth.

“Aw, no need to get all jumpy Frosty. I’m not gonna hurt you.” His voice is cheerful and mockingly soothing, like he’s talking to a terrified tiny animal. “Nothing to be afraid of!”

Pitch bares his teeth, though his heart is pounding desperately against his ribs. “What are you doing here?! Actually, I don’t care! Get out! Get away!”

Jack hops down from his staff, still smiling cheerfully as he walks towards Pitch. Who sidles along the ice wall to try and keep a distance between them.

“Shush, easy now, I just want to talk. See? I have my friendly face on!” He pulls down his hood and smiles brightly up at Pitch. With the blue light of the ice on him and his easy smile, he looks almost like a normal boy.

With gleaming, chromatic eyes, ashen skin and a few smudges of nightmare dust on him that is. Jack gestures to his face with one hand and raises his eyebrows.

“This, by the way, is my friendly face. You already saw the other one.”

“I dont. care. what face that is!” Pitch growls. “I want it out! I never want to see it again!”

Jack huffs, looking at Pitch like he’s being incredibly unreasonable. “Why are you so cranky all the time?”

“You-!” Pitch sputters for a few seconds,“You tortured me!”

“Noooooooo.” Jack says slowly, like he’s talking to an especially slow child. “Nooo, I made you THINK I was torturing you. There is a big difference.”

Pitch throws his arms up. “No, there is not!”

Something... _shifts_ in Jack. It’s too subtle for Pitch to put a finger on, but Jack’s head tilts, short and jerky and his eyes spark brighter. “Okay then.”

There’s a rushing noise and Jack is crowding against him. Nearly a full two heads shorter than Pitch but still looming while he tilts his head back to smile up at him with wide, wild eyes. “You nearly killed my brother. I played with your head a little bit. I’d say we’re even. Considering that I thought you really HAD killed my brother I think I showed a great deal of restraint.”

“Restraint!?” Pitch manages to stammer. He’s pressed as tightly back into the ice as he can, whole body tensed and trying to pull away from Jack’s heat.

“Yeah. You’re still sane aren’t you? Mostly at least.” Jack steps back, suddenly all friendly smiles and cheerful eyes. “So y’see? We’re even! There’s no reason for you to be all uppity!”

“If we’re even, as you so say, then what are you doing here.”

Jack tilts his head again, but the movement is softer, more natural and actually curious now. “I dunno, I think we have a lot in common. Just wanted to come and talk.”

“We are nothing alike and I have nothing to say to you!”

“I know what you feel like. I know what that loneliness is” Jack continues calmly, voice even and cool. “I know what it’s like to want to rip everyone open for not seeing you. I love my work, and I love what I do now.” Jack’s eyes sharpen again. “But I never forget what it was like to be truly feared. To have worlds terrified of my existence.”

Pitch looks at him, though the flat glint of those eyes crawls down his spine. He doesn’t understand this ancient child. “You could have that again. You’re powerful, more powerful than your little friends think you are. Why don’t you just take it, if you miss it so much?” He shouldn’t be talking to Jack. But he suddenly wants to know. Desperately wants to know.

“I don’t want it back. I didn’t say I miss it, just that I remember it. What I have now isn’t as strong, doesn’t feed me as well, but it’s good. It’s better than what I was. With how things are, I can go on forever. But back then it was never enough, I would devour everything if I gave myself the chance.” His eyes practically glow in the sparse light of the gorge. 

“I would cover the world in shadow and fear, if I let myself slip.”

Pitch feels his skin crawl but stares in fascination. He can’t begin to comprehend this impossible, small and terrifying thing standing in front of him.

Jack holds his stare, “And you would cover the word in ice.”

“The world deserves it. There’s nothing that’s truly worth saving.”

Jack shrugs, “Maybe. But it would be a lot more boring that way. I like it all messed up and good at the same time. It’s more interesting.” He grins brightly, “It’s more fun.”

“Fun.” Pitch says dully.

“Yeah, I had a feeling you would be confused by that word. Fun is that thing that makes you happy.”

“I’m never happy.”

“I am shocked by that news. Really, didn’t see that coming at all.”

Pitch sneers, “So what are you here for then? A bit of fun?”

“Eh, partially. But I already said, you remind me of me. Granted,” He gestures to Pitch in general, “a taller, crankier, and more morose and self-pitying me. But close enough.”

“Get to your point, Black.”

“I think we should team up sometime.” Jack smiles as Pitch stares incredulously at him. “Really! We’d be great!”

“I don’t.....I don’t know what you would want to accomplish. I once thought of finding you...having you help me. We could have the world in our hands but-”

“But that’s not my style.”

“No it’s not. So what would you want with me?”

Jack shrugs again. “Geeze, it isn’t world-or-nothing. We still could work well together. You have a flair for the dramatic that’s hilarious, but I could use it. And besides, you could join me. Or you could stay here. Alone.”

Pitch goes quiet, wants to say no but can’t find the words.

“Just think about it.” Jack smiles brightly at him and steps back into a shadow. He melts into it, and the last things Pitch sees are his shining eyes and wide, toothy grin.

“After all, what goes better than cold and dark?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god Jack Black is so fun to write you don't understand.
> 
> Also, in Evil Boyfriends Pitch is Gollum. In this verse he's Zuko.


End file.
